


google search: casserole dish for two

by sanctimonials



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctimonials/pseuds/sanctimonials
Summary: History, July 12, 2019. Google search: How to give your hot neighbor's casserole pan back without being totally lame and making a fool out of yourself?





	google search: casserole dish for two

**Author's Note:**

> i have changed the date of the google search three times as i have been working on this fic on and off for three years. i have finally gotten enough guts to post it. i love sambucky very, very much.

_ History, July 12, 2019. Google search: How to give your hot neighbor's casserole pan back without being totally lame and making a fool out of yourself? _

  
Bucky found himself in a Situation. It wasn’t a non-life threatening situation, which he was used to and would have preferred. But it was a totally embarrassing, pretty damn pathetic Situation, and he was a very dramatic man. And because of that it was delegated the importance of capitalization. The Situation is as follows: he had taken his neighbor's casserole dish hostage. And not just any neighbor’s dish but Hot Neighbor’s dish.    
  
Bucky didn’t keep it by choice, of course; the whole situation was entirely circumstantial. He didn’t mean to keep the dish for the better part of a month. He completely forgot about the damned thing until the exact moment as he was unloading the dishwasher and realized that the really nice dish in the machine wasn’t his or Steve’s. They didn’t bake, and making anything with more than one saucepan was always considered Too Much Work, so who’s dish was this?   
  
Realization came like lightning. Bucky didn’t mean to, he swears he didn’t mean to keep it, but that doesn’t make this ordeal any less embarrassing. Bucky suddenly wished he had been struck by lightning literally, just so he would have a good reason to bail out of this shitshow he’d gotten himself into.

  
As he looked at the google results warily, Bucky rubbed an exasperated hand down his face. He was surprised by the sheer volume of blog posts and advice columns in which the words 'pan etiquette' was used. He didn’t even know that was a thing and now he was reading Charlotte-from-Iowa’s extensive post about how one must not only clean the pan before presenting back to its owner (already done) but one should also rub a few energizing crystals over it to ensure that good will and good karma will be passed onto the owner. Bucky blinked, a tad confused, then shrugged with an “okay”. He decided not to do that but knew that Charlotte-from-Iowa’s heart was in the right place, so he didn’t mock the post and silently closed the tab with resignation.    
  
“Still googling, Buck?” Steve asked amicably as he ambled in from his morning run still shiny and red from exertion. He was glowing. Bucky was glowering.    
  
Bucky sighed a sigh that was more noise than air. He sat himself down at their small dining table early that morning and refused to budge until he found the perfect way to return their hot neighbor’s pan without making an absolute ass of himself. And Bucky knew he could have just taken the pan right to the guy’s apartment and go, “oh hey, here’s your pan back, sorry for keeping it for so long. Also, that food was fucking amazing. Also, can I take you out as thanks sometime?” But Bucky knew that would be impossible for him to do seeing as when said hot neighbor knocked on his door and said, “hey, welcome to the building. Name’s Sam — made you some food,” Bucky could only stare in awe as the chorus to Dreamweaver swelled in the background because, damn. He didn’t think God made people that beautiful. 

And Bucky — at that point a freshly discharged veteran with less-than-stellar social skills due do to, y’know, war — could only gargle out a mangled, “thanks,” before taking the food and closing the door on Sam’s face because. Wow, he couldn’t handle that, his gay heart just could not handle that face looking at him with that gap-toothed smile and those sweet, dark brown eyes. It was only a full five minutes after his little episode did Bucky realize he was supposed to make  _ small talk  _ with the guy, maybe say, “hey, my name’s Bucky and I am totally free, like, all of the time if you want to ruin my life, please ruin my life,” and not choke on his own panic. And now here he was, still holding Sam’s pan hostage and googling bullshit that used to come easy to him. “Fuck,” he groaned and leaned back onto his chair in exasperation.    
  
“It’s alright, man, you’ll get it,” Steve assured him, patting Bucky’s shoulder before settling down into the seat opposite of him to nurse a cup of juice and listen to his friend’s woes.   
  
“This shit shouldn’t be hard,” Bucky pouted.   
  
“I know.”   
  
“I used to be  _ great _ at this.”   
  
“I know, Buck.”   
  
“So, what the  _ fuck _ ?” Bucky turned to his friend, sure he looked as pathetic as he felt.   
  
Steve chuckled as he shrugged. “You’re just going through a rough patch, buddy,” Steve tried, hoping to comfort his best friend. But all it did was make Bucky wince.    
  
“But like... for how long?” Bucky meekly asked, and he had to turn his face away when Steve gave him that sad look, that look that broke Bucky’s heart into a million pieces. He didn’t mean to sound so downtrodden but it had been months since he had come home and it wasn’t getting any better. The mess his emotions had become and the instances of social awkwardness got old quick. He just wanted one good thing and Sam-the-hot-neighbor could be his one good thing. He didn’t want to mess up again.    
  
Steve reeled in his sadness and his blue eyes steeled with the pigheaded determination so often associated with Steve Rogers. Bucky prepared himself for a dumbass idea.    
  
“Ok, get up, let’s go return that dish,” Steve said as he made his way behind Bucky to pull him up from his seat. Bucky resisted, settling his weight harder onto the seat as Steve pulled him up by his pits. Steve looked like he was handling a disgruntled cat. It wasn’t Bucky’s proudest moment.

  
“No!”   
  
“Yes, Buck! You can’t keep obsessing over this! You got to just do it!”   
  
“I can’t!” Bucky whined but he was manhandled to his feet and shoved out the front door with the pan clutched to his chest like a lifeline. Steve marched him right down the hall to Sam-the-hot-neighbor’s apartment door and rang the doorbell before ditching Bucky to face his fate as he heard a “coming!” from inside the apartment.   
  
“G’luck!” Steve muttered before dashing down the hall and back to their apartment. Bucky heard the distinct, finalizing click of their three locks and the Situation hit Bucky like a punch to the gut.   
  
“ROGERS, YOU FU—uh, hello,” Bucky squeaked as the door to Sam’s apartment opened to reveal a severe looking red headed woman. Sweat poured down his back as she leveled her sharp gaze on him, taking in his nervous pallor and the dish clutched in his hand. He swallowed and her eyes focused on the bob of his adam’s apple, like a lioness focusing on a soft spot to attack. Bucky knew that in a different situation he would have admired and respected her deadly aura. But instead he was reduced to a sweaty, anxious mess by the mere focus of her eyes. He barely stuttered out, “Hi, uh, I’m Bucky. I’m your neighbor from 4E and —“   
  
“That’s Sam’s pan,” the woman interjected, and Bucky’s words died on his tongue.   
  
“Yes, it is,” he squeaked. Her lips turned up slightly in a smile that was as delicately pretty as it was scary.   
  
“So, you’re the one who has it. He’s been looking for it.”   
  
“He has?” Bucky squeaked.   
  
“Oh, yeah, he’s been really upset about it,” the woman nodded, her brows furrowed solemnly. Guilt roiled in Bucky’s stomach. Ah, shit, he really did it now.   
  
“Uh, then, can you just give it — ? Or I can just — it’s clean, I scrubbed it, so you can just. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was like important or —“   
  
“It’s his late grandmother’s pan,” the woman added and Bucky wished for death. Maybe a slow one. “And no, I have to go get my reps in but you can give it to him yourself. SAM!” Suddenly, spontaneous combustion sounded much more alluring to the soldier than a slow death.

  
Bucky sputtered as the redhead sauntered away. Sam yelled from the back of the apartment, his footsteps loud in Bucky’s ears, and he began calculating just how fast he could run back to his own apartment and bulldoze the door down. The answer was not quick enough and Bucky soon found himself face to face with Sam, The Hot Neighbor.   
  
“Uh.”   
  
“Uh,” Sam parroted, an amused lift to his (beautifully luscious) lips. Bucky had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Sam’s (brilliantly decadent) eyes. That didn’t help either and so Bucky did what he knew he had to do: he returned the pan.   
  
“Here’s your pan,” he muttered, shoving the kitchenware into Sam’s hands. “I forgot all about it and I just found it and... yeah, sorry.”   
  
“You’re the one who had it?! Shit, I was looking all over for it, no wonder I couldn’t find it,” Sam chuckled, his lips now in a sheepish smile that only endeared Bucky more.   
  
“Yeah, your um, the woman?” Bucky held his breath in anticipation.   
  
“Oh, yeah, my roommate, Natasha?”   
  
And they were roommates!! Relief flooded Bucky. He wanted to pump his fists in the air with joy. “Yeah, your roommate, she said it was your grandmother’s so I’m real sorry, I shouldn’t have—“   
  
“Man! She’s such a liar!” Sam guffawed as looked down the hall disbelievingly as if Natasha was still there to witness it. “She got you, I’m sorry. She’s just... she’s weird, don’t pay attention to her. I got this at the 0.99¢ store down the block.”   
  
“What,” Bucky deadpanned.   
  
“Yeah, this is a cheap ass pan. A really good pan but it was like five bucks, tops. I’m sorry about her, she sticks her nose into business that’s not hers all the time,” Sam said, giving Bucky an apologetic look. Bucky’s face heated up with embarrassment.   
  
“No worries, it’s alright,” Bucky assured.   
  
“No, it’s not, I...look you gave me my pan back and I was thinking of making lasagna tonight. You in?” Sam asked, his eyes looking bright and hopeful in the thin stream of sunlight coming in from the dirty hallway window of their apartment building. Bucky’s heart tripped, sang and ached all at once. Shit, he’s a goner.   
  
“Yeah, of course,” he smiled, trying his damndest not to look too eager.   
  
“Great. Pick you up at, say... 6:30?”    
  
“I think I can manage getting here by myself,” Bucky chuckled, making Sam laugh as well. “But, if you don’t mind the extra work. Sure, that works great.”   
  
“I’ll be there,” Sam promised. “And, uh, comb your hair.”   
  
“Wow, really?”   
  
“Yeah, really. Gotta look sharp for my lasagna, man.”   
  
And with one last laugh, Bucky walked back down the hall to his own apartment. He slumped heavily against the door, shocked at what had just happened. He got a date! Holy hell, he got a date with hot neighbor Sam! And Sam was  _ perfect _ .

  
He felt weightless and restless, like he could run a whole marathon on feathered shoes. He was on the moon and nothing could bring him down. Not even when he bodily fell onto the floor of his apartment with a crash as Steve opened the door behind him, no doubt wondering who the hell was the bum resting on their door.   
  
“Shit, Buck! What the hell!”   
  
“I got it, Stevie,” Bucky said, careless of his splayed position on the floor. “A date with Sam! We’re having dinner, he’s cooking lasagna and he’s picking me up here.”   
  
“We live like... three doors down?”   
  
“Who cares?! Let me have this!”   
  
“Congrats, Buck,” Steve smiled as he reached down to help his friend up. “You see? All you needed was a push. Now, what are you taking over?”   
  
“What?”    
  
Steve gave Bucky an incredulous look. “Like as a gift? You just can’t go to someone’s house without a gift.”   
  
Well, shit. Bucky crash landed back on Earth and, with a sigh (that still had a hint of dreamy to it), he murmured, “guess it’s back to Google.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos, crit and comments are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading!


End file.
